


D20 Alphabet Event 2021

by NerdyBirdy6602



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 01 Season 01: Fantasy High Freshman Year (Dimension 20), Campaign 01 Season 02: Fantasy High Sophomore Year (Dimension 20), Campaign 03 Season 01: The Unsleeping City, Campaign 03 Season 02: The Unsleeping City Chapter II, Campaign 06: Pirates of Leviathan, Episode: c05e09 A Crown of Candy: Safe Harbor, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 16:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyBirdy6602/pseuds/NerdyBirdy6602
Summary: This is a compilation of all my fics for the Dimension 20 Alphabet event involving various campaigns! (These can also be found on Tumblr if any of these seem familiar!)
Relationships: Ayda Aguefort & Garthy O'Brien, Calroy Cruller & Amethar Rocks, Calroy Cruller & Jet Rocks, Calroy Cruller & Ruby Rocks, Cathilda & Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Jack Brakkow/Garthy O'Brien, Primsy Coldbottle/Liam Wilhelmina, Primsy Coldbottle/Liam Wilhelmina Jawbreaker, Ricky Matsui/Esther Sinclair, Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. A for Alone

**Author's Note:**

> As always, special thanks to my very best friend [m3rcut10](%E2%80%9Carchiveofourown.org/users/m3rcut10%E2%80%9D) for encouraging my obsession with Dimension 20 and D&D in general.

Lord Cruller smirks as he watches the body of the former King of Candia tumble through the air to his surely inevitable demise. He’s waited for this moment for twenty fucking years, doting on Amethar’s every whim and need as a good friend, and a brother in arms, should. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t bask in the glory for a moment or two. Cruller steps back from the edge, gazing out at the myriad of tents scattered throughout the battlefield with undeniable satisfaction, but a flash of red catches his eye.

The Locket of the Sweetest Heart.

In his mind’s eye, Calroy imagines the scene playing out in the lingerie store. The water steel daggers he armed Ciabatta with would cut through the twins’ licorice skin with ease, corroding them from the inside out. He wonders who is running across the bridge to get help, and who lies dying in Dulcington.

Jet is too foolhardy to run from a fight, so he doubts it’s her. She’d fight for her sister’s life tooth and nail, even if it meant her own demise. A nostalgic smile crosses Calroy’s face when he remembers his lessons with young Jet; remembers watching her deftly maneuver a training sword. Her footwork was almost always immaculate. Perhaps her greatest weakness is— _was_ —her stubbornness.

As Lord Cruller corrects himself, the chill of the evening air wraps around him, making him shiver. Some last remaining moral part of him reasoned that the twins were only just barely women grown. If he had played his cards more carefully, could he have spared them and still succeeded?

_You’ve gone soft, Calroy,_ his mind sneers. _No room for mercy. Not when you’ve worked so hard to get here. Not when you’ve waited so **long.**_

He sighs and turns his back to the horizon so he doesn’t have to see the cherry-red light fade to an inky, licorice-black darkness. Cruller knows he’s gotten what he wants, but the price he’s paying for it still leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

Who knew it’d be so lonely at the top?


	2. B for Book

Ayda Aguefort sat in her study at the Compass Points this evening, deeply enveloped in some new books she had discovered in her brief travels outside of the library. Some lazy pirate had been using them as coasters for his rum, of all things. She bargained for a price that he’d be willing to part with the texts for, and now she was here. Her extensive notes, compiled on separate parchment, were neatly printed so that anyone looking for her insight might be able to have it.

She paused in her work when she heard a strange giggle coming from deeper within the library. The half-phoenix woman knew it couldn’t be Rawlins, as she’d sent him home hours ago, and mirth wasn’t something she often heard within these walls. Knowledge was serious business, and those seeking it had no time for jokes. With that in mind, she abandoned her nearly completed notes in search of the source of the sound.

Ayda flew above the rows of shelves, reaching a vantage point so that she could see them all at once. It took a few moments, but an indistinct form caught her eye. She couldn’t tell who it was, but she could see them pulling her perfectly sorted novels from their slots and into messy piles around the floor. She soared down to greet this stranger and perhaps give them a piece of her mind.

Alighting on the hardwood floor beside the mysterious guest, she realized that this was only a child, not some dangerous intruder. The half-orc aasimar was clothed in raggedy scraps. Practically skin and bones, she knew they were malnourished. Still, the child had enough sense to stare up in horror, realizing they’d been caught.

“Miss! I’m so sorry. It was raining outside and it looked so warm in here. I just…”

They trail off, looking at their feet. Ayda glances up, peering through a window and realizing that it was, in fact, pouring. She merely hummed, looking back at the poor little half-orc who looked ready to cry, run, or both.

“Your name?”

There was a long pause, and the child looked up at her with wide eyes. The blank stare told her that they had no name, and perhaps they were thinking of one. Finally, they said, “I call myself Garthy, Miss. Garthy O’Brien.”

“Garthy O’Brien,” she repeated softly, letting the name settle on her tongue. “My name is Ayda Aguefort. You’ve made a mess of my collections. Why?”

“I was looking for books with pictures,” Garthy explained tentatively. “I don’t know how to read, and I wanted to pass the time. I was going to clean them up, I promise!”

Ayda frowned, finding that she couldn’t be upset with this child. It simply wouldn’t be fair, so instead she murmured, “A tragedy that you cannot read. Have you a home?”

The child shook their head in clear dismay and said, “No, Miss. No home but the streets.”

Ayda smiled for the first time since meeting the child, leaning down so they were at eye level and answered, “I will change that. I will give you a place to stay, food to eat, real clothing to wear, and teach you to read. In return, I ask that you help me keep my books tidy. I believe I have been just and fair in my proposal, yes?”

“Yes!”

Garthy jumped up, wrapping their arms around Ayda’s neck in a warm hug. Her fiery feathers flared and the roiling balls of flame that were her eyes sparked as she flinched at the touch. After a moment, she returned the embrace and lifted them into her arms. Scanning the titles, she selected a book that would serve as a suitable bedtime story for the child and used Mage Hand to tidy the collection Garthy had torn from the shelves.

As she carried the child to her study, she couldn’t help but mumble, “How fortunate that you have stumbled upon my library, little one.”


	3. C for Cozy

Ricky walks into his apartment with Esther after a long day at Helping Hands. The work itself was fulfilling and Ricky felt nothing short of satisfied with the change he was making in New York, but that didn’t make the job any less of a job. The work was exhausting and mentally draining. When Ricky flopped on the couch and rested his head in his girlfriend’s lap, Esther merely smiled and marked her place in her spellbook. He stared up at her with wide, unassuming eyes.

“You didn’t have to stop on my account,” Ricky said, his voice gentle and sweet.

“I missed you, silly,” Esther purred in return, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “And besides, you’re definitely far more interesting than a divination book, as much as I love my craft.”

Ricky only hummed in response, glancing over at Ox who trotted over and nudged the man’s hand, clearly asking for pets. He obliged without question, making Esther chuckle.

“If you think this isn’t going on our Instagram, you’re dead wrong,” she teased, snapping a photo of the moment for later. “Anyway, what do you want to do? My work at Gramercy is done for today, unless Ana and Amelia desperately need my services. Wanna… I don’t know. Netflix?”

Ricky hesitated for a second, indecisiveness evident on his face, before he finally admitted, “I was actually sort of hoping I could listen to you read? If you want to, I mean.”

Esther’s eyes lit up instantly, though she tried not to look too excited in case Ricky changed his mind. It was little, endearing moments like this one that made Esther fall head-over-heels in love with Ricky in the first place. Calmly, she reminded him, “It’s just a divination book, sweetheart. Boring as hell for anyone that doesn’t study magic incessantly.”

“I like listening to the sound of your voice.”

Esther flinched instinctively to set off the cantrip to steady her emotions as her heart leapt in her chest before she remembered she wasn’t cursed anymore. Instead, nodding with a pleased smile on her lips, Esther used Mage Hand to hold the book in front of her face so her hands were free to run her fingers through Ricky’s hair. As she started reading the formal text, she felt both Ricky and Ox settle in for the start of storytime.

 _My boys,_ she thought lovingly. _There’s no place I’d rather be._


	4. Chapter 4

Captain Jack Brakkow, as shocking as it may sound, had dreams. Granted those hopes sank to the bottom of the sea the same moment _The Late Bloomer_ did, but he _had_ once been a dreamer. His aspirations of being a legendary captain had started out with a thought and crew made up of his closest friends. After his curse, Jack had been sure he’d never sail another vessel again. How could he ever be worthy of the trust of another crew? There was no future, no dreams, for a cursed man.

Then in his quest to take down the Crescent Moon Trading Company, he’d stumbled upon the Gold Gardens and its proprietor Garthy O’Brien. After a quiet evening of peace and pampering, the cursed man had an inkling that maybe, just maybe, he could be a better man; a man worthy of a crew.

Next thing he knew he was the proud captain of _The Harvest Moon_ and on a quest to save some gnomes from a fate worse than death. He’d set sail and parted from Leviathan, from Garthy, for months. Suddenly, he was a free man with a dream, a vision, and a way to make it come to life. With the weight of his past off his shoulders, Jack felt like a new man.

After months of life on the open seas, their adventure was complete and they inevitably returned to Leviathan. The gnomes were, thankfully, returned to their families. As Captain, he felt a certain responsibility to see this through until the end. Though, as soon as he took a step off the boat, Marcid placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve left someone waitin’,” he drawled, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Now that you’ve returned to Leviathan, I imagine one Garthy O’Brien will be eager to see ya.”

“Aye, but there’s work to be—”

“And I can manage that just fine,” Marcid interjected. “Go on, Capt’n. I’ll fetch you if anything goes awry.”

Jack nodded and watched as the bugbear gave a mock salute before walking away. Meanwhile, he ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the warm embrace of the Gold Gardens. As much as Jack loved the sea and his travels, he had been dreaming about his return since he’d left. When he faced the entrance, he took a moment to catch his breath. Gods forbid if he looked overeager or desperate, seeking the proprietor of this fine establishment with heaving breath and flushed cheeks.

After a moment of tense silence, he entered the Gold Gardens and scanned the room for any sign of them. A few of the patrons spotted Jack and raised their glasses to celebrate his most recent victory. None of them were the person he was looking for though, so he gave an awkward smile and moved on. Jack was almost about to go up to the private room Garthy had shown him before he left until he heard a rather familiar, sultry tone behind him.

“Well, if it isn’t Captain Jack Brakkow.”

He turned around to face them, and suddenly the world seemed to stop. The conversations of the patrons around them faded into the background. Jack only had eyes for Garthy’s wide smile, showing the barest hint of tusks. He couldn’t help the nearly breathless way he whispered, “Garthy.”

“Welcome back, lovey,” Garthy purred, raking their golden gaze over Jack’s form. The newly-confident Captain didn’t try to flinch or hide and was rewarded by the proud gleam in their eye. “Look at you! Positively glowing from your time at sea. You look different, darling.”

Jack took their hands tentatively, squeezing them in a gesture of comfort. “Aye? Different how, Garthy?”

They hummed, pondering their words for a moment before settling on, “You look like you finally believe that you’re worthy of the ground you walk upon, lovey. It’s a very flattering look on you.”

Jack blushed, almost embarrassed, and yet he knew the words to be true. He knew he stood taller now, and walked with newfound purpose. As a new man, he let himself dream again. It didn’t shock him that there was a visible difference.

“The adventure was well-needed,” he admitted with a small smile. “But it’s good to be home. I missed you terribly.”

Garthy’s look grew fonder and suddenly Jack found himself being tugged away from the crowd of patrons into the more secluded areas of the Gold Gardens. Once in their private quarters, Jack felt his heart leap in his chest at the adoring, loving look Garthy was giving him.

“I missed you just as much, lovey,” they whispered, the longing in their voice undeniable. “Welcome home.”

With Garthy’s lips pressed against his own, Captain Jack Brakkow couldn’t help but feel that he’d found something new to dream about.


	5. E for Escape

Amethar was the last to jump from the cathedral window, exhausted and crestfallen. He and Lapin had never been very close. The Chancellor always managed to speak circles around him which annoyed Amethar and bored Lapin, who had always preferred a challenge. Amethar knew his strengths, and wit wasn’t one of them.

Still, leaving Lapin to die at the hands of the church was wrong. Leaving him defenseless was cruel. Amethar had one thing going for him, and it was his ability to hack and slash his way through any obstacle. But one man against all the church’s paladins and primogens? Then there would be two men to die that evening, and Amethar had two beautiful daughters that he’d give anything to keep safe. He wouldn’t be able to do that from beyond the grave.

So he jumped.

Amethar watched in horror as, in a matter of moments, chocolate syrup splattered against the stained glass windows. He heard the girls gasp in undeniable shock. They had only ever known peace, which made the moment all the more painful. Liam gave an agonizing shriek, which served to remind him that the poor boy had lost his closest companion. That damned pig had done his best to help, but there was only so much a peppermint pig could do.

When he was finally able to tear his gaze away from the carnage, he realized that no one else had. Theo looked moved beyond words, wordlessly humbled by Lapin’s sacrifice. Jet and Ruby were sobbing openly, linking pinkies in the way they always did to comfort each other. Liam was on his knees, mumbling hopelessly to himself about Preston. Amethar realized they didn’t have time to stay here. The Imperial Guard would be after them quickly, and they would take no prisoners.

“Let’s move,” Amethar rasped, moving to pull Liam to his feet. “Mourning can happen in the safety of hiding. Now, we need to run. Run!”

That seemed to rouse them. Jet and Ruby took the lead, sprinting down an ally. Theo followed suit, taking his king’s words as the order they were. Liam scrambled after them, trying to wipe the snot and tears from his face so he could see where he was running to. Amethar followed behind them all, feeling the weight of his choices pressing down on him but refusing to let them overcome him. He bit his lip and sprinted as fast and as hard as his legs would carry him away from the church; away from the slaughter.

What choice did he have?


	6. F for Flowers

Liam Wilhemina was trying to remember how to be a Seed Guy. Changing his habits, he discovered, was more challenging than he’d imagined. The War Guy he’d become for several months still lingered in the back of his mind, whispering ideas.

You’re not safe here, arm yourself, it would advise, even when he was safely nestled in bed beside his girlfriend.

You’re being followed, hide, it would sneer as he walked alone through the halls of the Duchess’s castle.

Images of blood-stained arrow tips and taut bow strings haunted his nightmares. He’d wake every night screaming, afraid of ever becoming that person again. Primsy would soothe him as best as she could, but they were both just kids. They didn’t exactly know how to handle the aftershocks of war.

The one place he found peace was the royal garden. It hadn’t started as much. Early one morning, Primsy had given him an enormous plot of land overgrown with weeds. She had been apologetic, offering whomever Liam would need to get the job done. He’d waved her off politely, an eager smile on his face.

“I think this might be what I need,” he admitted. “Something to do with my hands, y’know?”

Primsy smiled at him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as she murmured, “Just don’t work yourself too hard, Liam. I’ll be back to check in on you.”

Liam got to work over the next few weeks, gathering the gardening tools he had been provided. He trimmed back the brush, uprooted the weeds, and removed the unsightly rocks from the area. He requested plants from all the nations of Calorum, so that he could have a well-balanced, beautiful garden. Primsy was sure to indulge in all his requests, happy to do whatever kept the glimmer of hope in her love’s eyes. Working on this garden was the happiest she’d seen him in a long while. He talked more, stood straighter, and even his nightmares grew to be less frequent.

Eventually, the plot of land looked less like an abandoned field and more like a garden worthy of royalty. Liam planted each seed by hand, making sure each soon-to-be-flower had room to flourish properly. By the time each flower bloomed, the gated garden was lush with new life.

“Liam,” Primsy called, rushing out with a milken in her hands. “Oh Liam, it’s all so beautiful! You’ve done marvelous work.”

Liam blushed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and presenting a mixed bouquet with the other. Quickly, he babbled, “These are for you! I-I thought you might like something to freshen up your room! I mean… our room! Yeah, anyway, I just wanted to—”

He was cut off by a swift kiss from Primsy, who was simply awed by his sweet gesture. When they parted she held up a hand to caress his cheek. Quietly, she whispered, “It’s good to see you happy, love.”

Liam grinned and answered, “Yeah, I don’t know. Lot’s of things are wrong with the world. Calorum isn’t perfect. But here, with you? There’s no place I’d rather be.”


	7. G for Grief

Fabian was quiet.

Riz had never seen Fabian so quiet and small. The half-elf always seemed inflated by his own self-confidence. While Riz found that this trait grated on his nerves more often than not, at least that was the norm. Looking at the Seacaster now was like looking at a popped balloon. It was just _sad_.

He wasn’t even sure what happened to his friend. He refused to speak of whatever happened up there against Captain Whitclaw but whatever it was rattled the boy to his core. On the way back to the Gold Gardens, Fabian was staring hauntedly at nothing with Cathilda at his side trying to offer her maternal presence. Riz, with the help of his detective skills, knew that Fabian wasn’t mentally present now. He was re-experiencing whatever horrors he had encountered in the Crow’s Keep.

When they finally arrived at the Gold Gardens, Garthy welcomed them back, giving a particularly empathetic look to Fabian. They all eventually retired to their respective bedrooms, and Cathilda caught his attention before he went to his own.

“Master Riz,” she called.

“Just Riz,” he corrected, a small smile on his face. “What do you need?”

“Do you think you could talk to Master Fabian before you head off to sleep? I know he doesn’t like to admit it, but he does value your friendship and, well, maybe it’s not a mother he needs right now. Do you understand my meaning?”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure—”

“Please,” she begged in a near whisper. “I’ve never seen him like this, not even after Master William passed.”

Riz sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

She patted his shoulder, whispered her thanks, and went off to tend to the other members of the party. He braced himself for whatever response he might receive and reminded himself that Fabian wasn’t himself right now before stepping into the half-elf’s space. Riz found the boy curled up on his bed facing the wall, hugging himself tight enough that the goblin detective could only assume he was protecting himself from… something.

“Hey, Fabian,” Riz called gently. “Do you need anything?”

Silence.

“Fabian?”

More silence.

“Listen, if you got cursed or someone cast Feeble Mind on you… Fabes, give me a sign you’re in there.”

The silence only grew, but this time the boy shook his head. Good, at least Fabian could understand him. That was all the encouragement Riz needed to sit beside the bed, with Fabian’s back still to him.

“Thank you, for that,” he murmured. “Good to know you can hear me. I… I’m not very good at this whole comforting thing. Feelings are confusing and hard to understand, but I know what grief is. I know what it means to hurt, I think everyone in the party does to some degree. If you need someone to talk about it with, we’re all here. I… I’m here for you.”

The silence was deafening and uncomfortable, so Riz gave a heavy sigh and stood to walk out. As he took a step away, he heard the rustling of sheets and a croak of, “The… Riz?”

Riz stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time Fabian called him by his actual name. It might’ve been before the incident that gave him the nickname, but he couldn’t be sure. The gravity of his name coming from Fabian’s lips settled in his mind as he turned to see the half-elf’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. It hit the young detective like a punch to the gut to see Fabian so broken.

“What do you need, Fabes?”

“Can you stay?”

The question made Riz smile despite himself, and he sat on the edge of Fabian’s bed in response. Though the boy didn’t say anything by means of thanks, he could practically see the words in Fabian’s eyes. Tentatively, as if waiting for Fabian to tear himself away, Riz placed his hand over his friend’s and squeezed firmly to show that he was here and wouldn’t be going anywhere else unless Fabian asked. This sparked new tears in Fabian’s eyes, but Riz didn’t acknowledge them in any way. Simple tears turned into quiet sobbing, and Riz let him cry it out as long as he needed.

Riz didn’t need to know what happened. This wasn’t a case that he needed to crack wide open. Either Fabian would divulge what happened while in the Crow’s Keep, or he wouldn’t. No matter what, though, Riz would be here to hold his hand through it. No one should have to grieve alone, especially not one of his closest friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome. Also, feel free to check my out on Tumblr here. Have a lovely day!


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